


The Devil to Pay in the Backlands of Hell (or the secret letter, Lucifer wrote to Mazikeen about Chloe)

by frangelina



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Secrets, Unspoken Love, lucifer missing the detective, miracle and lightbringer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frangelina/pseuds/frangelina
Summary: So, I just had this idea of a Lucifer ~bored and tired in the longest quarantine ever, in the deepest of hell~ confessing his feelings down in a letter to Mazikeen, of course, he doesn't want to make Chloe longing for him, again, because inspire false hopes are the same of lying, and this is something he swore never do to The Detective.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The Devil to Pay in the Backlands of Hell (or the secret letter, Lucifer wrote to Mazikeen about Chloe)

**Author's Note:**

>   
> Based on the Brazilian book: "Grande Sertão: Veredas", that was poorly translated to English in the '60s as "The Devil to Pay in The Backlands" (It wasn't the translator fault, Guimaraes Rosa was known as a word inventor, his books had a lot of neologisms and regionalisms, basically of the provincial persons on the backlands of Minas Gerais). It's a book that really worths the time.  
> *In the endnote, I will introduce the story of this "beautiful-turbulent" book.

THAT PLACE, the air there. It was there, I first realized that I loved The Detective, real love, poorly disguised as friendship. The full realization of it had come to me suddenly. It did startle me, I reproach myself at the time, I was thinking of it as another of my Dad's manipulations. I remember it clearly. 

But the name of The Detective, which I had called out, stayed with me. I embraced it. The taste of honey still clings to the mouth. "Chloe, my love." How could I say such a thing? And how does that love arose?

The heart grows in all directions. The heart is like a brook, winding through hills and lowlands, through woods and meadows. The heart combines loves. Everything fits in it.

And I, how can I make clear to you, the strength of the love that grew up in me, for her? Let my old earth-life bear witness to it. Was it love?! It was limitless something. I would have laid down, my life for her in an infinite amount of times.

And suddenly, I found myself loving her beyond all reason, loving her, even more than before. With my heart at her feet, to be trampled upon. I had been loving her, the whole time.

A Chloe for me, alone. Everything has its mysterious, Mazikeen. There are some things, you can't explain. I didn't know, but, with my mind, I embraced The Detective with my body. That love was real now. Was not? It was like a serpent, inside me.

Chloe is no longer a name, it was promptly a feeling of mine.

That thought was transforming me, filling me, with I know not what, that caused both pain and pleasure. If I had been going to die at that moment, I would not have cared.

Why? I am going to tell you, Mazikeen, something that is not generally known: always when we begin to love someone, in the normal run of things, love takes root and grows, because, in a way, that is what we want to happen, and so we seek it and help it along in our mind, but when it is predestined, all-embracing, we love completely and fatefully, we have to love and face upon, one surprise after another. A love of this sort grows first and bursts forth later.

My mind was in a whirl. I waited to see what she would do. In a flash of revelation, I knew about myself: what influenced my state of mind, was that I, was madly in love with the Detective and at the same time, underlying this, was a dull rage at it not be possible for me, to love her as I wanted to, honorably and completely. After so much exaltation, my love swelled, of soak up all the foliage, and I ambitioned to take Chloe, to carry Chloe in my arms, to kiss her, for many times, always.

I embraced Chloe, as with the wings of all celestials. The Detective was my mist.

We can only live close to another and come to know them, without risk of hate, only if we love. Any portion of love is of itself a degree of health, a lull in the madness.

Love is us, wanting to find, WHAT BELONGS TO US.

**Author's Note:**

> The Devil to Pay in the Backlands is generously and lushly multilayered: a soldier of fortune’s tale, historical saga, insurgent chronicles, and even a delicate romantic mystery – and always at the highest narrative level. The novel recounts the violent wars raging in the hinterlands of Brazil. It is narrated by Riobaldo, a jagunço or bandit, to a writer who was silent interlocutor throughout the book. Riobaldo freely confesses his story and his candid thoughts and in the process betrays his philosophical meditations on various existential and spiritual questions: the place of the individual in the world, the existence of the devil, the place of honor in a violent world, the forgiveness of sins, the costs of betrayal, the costs of love, the value of friendship, the art of war, the ways to grab power and leadership.
> 
> The novel also explored ideas about the individual as a free agency of good and evil, equipped with human feelings and human reason. The individual has seemingly unlimited capacity to change, to reform his ways, from one station in life to another. This individual political will to change was closely tied to Riobaldo’s metaphysical discussions on God and the devil, on saints, reincarnation, and the afterlife. Does the devil exist or not? Does God exist to thwart the devil's plans? How free are we to make a choice between good and evil? What is a "just" war? What compels a man to transform himself from good to bad and the other way round? When you’re in love, is your love inspired by God or by the Devil?
> 
> Riobaldo loves to be in love, but the first time he falls in love it is with a nameless boy -- later, we learn that this boy was Diadorim -- whom he spies across the way at the market. The boy is beautiful with glowing green eyes and the softness/hardness that always puzzles Riobaldo later.
> 
> His burning passion for Diadorim prompts him to join these jacunços and travel with them until he grows old so that he can be close to his friend. Diadorim and Riobaldo are two of the bravest and most violent fighters among the jacunços. They live and breathe war. At the same time, their romantic love for each other is unparalleled. They yearn, independently, for what they believe that they can never have. They play with each other like this, repelling that which they desire most.
> 
> Of all the affective experiences that describe the two love-birds, desire, fear, and shame are paramount for Riobaldo. In this way, his love -- and Diadorim himself -- are demonized to a certain extent, suggesting that the real devil to whom Riobaldo has sold his soul is Diadorim: the perpetual tempter. Riobaldo constantly asks, "could love be sent by the Devil?" Nevertheless, their love blossoms with time rather than diminish. What persists, also, is Riobaldo's debate about the justness of his love.
> 
> Rather, the truth of Diadorim's secret reveals only one thing to Riobaldo: that sometimes "selling" the soul is actually "buying" it back.


End file.
